


Red Jenny's Sonata

by BreakerBroken



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friends of Red Jenny, Revenge, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakerBroken/pseuds/BreakerBroken
Summary: ***COMPLETED***Sera finds a new recruit.NOTE: All of the writing that is underlined indicates that those lines of dialogue are from the original games/media. Those lines belong to their original writers and creators.
Kudos: 6





	1. First Movement

**Author's Note:**

> More fun, might be multiple chapters but not planning for it to be very long, though. Enjoy! ~BreakerBroken

His fingers didn't work right.

Sometimes they did, and that was good.

But sometimes they didn't.

The wooden bench he sat on was uncomfortable. The bench's edge had been pressing into his legs for so long that they had started going numb.

He stared at his hands. His fingers looked too short.

It wasn't an excuse for them to not work, though.

He knew blaming his fingers was an excuse in itself.

Every surface in the room he sat in was polished to reflect the candles all around him. But even with the reflected light, the room felt dim. He could barely hear the voices and music of the ball outside, thanks to the thick oak door and heavy woolen curtain that covered it.

But he _could_ hear it.

Gaspard had brought him to the Winter Palace, shown him off, then put him out of sight. He was there as a pawn in Gaspard's stupid Game, an appeal to the court's more tender emotions that would allow him to ‘curry favor with sympathetic nobles and win them over to his claim to the throne.’

Gaspard had explained this to him.

No, he had _bragged_ this to him. To say he 'explained' it to him would imply that Gaspard thought he had enough worth to be taken into his confidence.

"One look at your little face will show them my more paternal side, convince them that I care for children."

Gaspard did not care for children. He would have told them as much if he had the courage to speak against the Grand Duke.

Instead, he stood in front of nobles in his elegant but not-too-elegant half-mask and attire and bowed to them. Gaspard told lies, and they cooed about how generous and thoughtful he was.

Gaspard graciously accepted their compliments, then had them follow as he led him to the room he sat in now.

"He is a shy thing, but he loves twiddling with the keys." More coos from the nobles behind them.

Gaspard had sat him on the bench and 'asked' him to play for them.

His fingers didn't work right this time.

The notes came at the wrong time, were too long or too short, were played out of time, too quickly or too slowly, and most of them were incorrect.

Gaspard had prepared for that, knew exactly what to say to save face. Even so, he knew his poor playing made Gaspard angry. He would rather show off a prodigy.

He was not a prodigy.

"You can see he blushes so. He wants so badly to do well! Encouraging the youth to pursue art and better themselves is a passion of mine, even if sometimes that passion necessitates the wearing of cotton in one's ears."

They had laughed with him.

Then they left.

Gaspard left last.

"Stay here. Do not embarrass me."

Then he closed the door.

That had been over an hour ago.

At least Gaspard didn't lock it this time.

He set his hands on the keys and pressed his fingers into them, trying again to get the song right.

He had played it well a few times, when no one was around to watch him. 

It was much harder to play well when someone was watching.

Gaspard's servants had tried to tell him that he was good, that they enjoyed listening to him play as they walked past his room in the hidden hallways behind the walls.

But compliments didn't make his fingers work correctly when eyes were on him. His fingers worked _more often_ when no one was watching him.

Even then, it depended. On what, he couldn't say, but he could sometimes play well in the morning and horribly at night, or the other way around, audience or no.

His fingers worked better than they had an hour ago. But the song was still disjointed, mismatched notes and tones rushing too fast or moving too slow.

He stopped, then slid his fingers off the keys and rested them in his lap.

He hated playing the piano.

He knew he would sit here, in case Gaspard wanted to show him off to another group of nobles, until one of Gaspard's servants came to get him when it was time to leave. He was a doll, carried around by a bratty child, locked away in glass cabinets, and only ever let out to be moved to a new cabinet.

Gaspard told others that he was a foundling, brought to him by a servant. Gaspard would say he had taken pity on him, wanting to raise him in a better life. Sometimes he added on that it made him think it was what his late wife would have wanted.

Lies. All he'd really wanted was another piece to use in the Game.

He lifted his fingers to the keys again and played, more notes falling into their proper places. They would become discordant when his mind wandered, but it was still better.

He heard the door open and close quickly, seeing the curtain bulge and move awkwardly.

" _Shite_ that was close!" He heard the unseen speaker make a confused sound. "Who the fuck puts a curtain in front of a door?"

He saw the curtain bulge again, a large lump descending towards the floor. A gloved hand raised the bottom hem of the curtain up, revealing an elven woman in red crawling out on her hands and knees.

"Fucking _ridiculous._ Wait, who're you? Where's this?"

She looked around, still on her hands and knees. One side of her nose wrinkled in confusion.

"This isn't the servant’s quarters! _Shite_!" She stood up, dusting off her leather trousers. Then she made a face and pulled at the seat of her trousers. "All that crawlin's put my smalls in a twist. So, where's it?"

"Where's...the servant's quarters?" She was dressed like someone important, but she didn't speak like the nobles he was paraded in front of, or like the servants he was most often with.

"Yeah. Usually a big room, lots of shitty little beds?" He tried to answer, but the woman kept talking. "What're you doing in _here_ anyway?" She looked around the room, empty except for the candles, the piano, and him.

"Oh...practicing, I guess."

She walked over and sat down on the bench next to him. Almost on top of him, really, but he quickly scooted to the side.

"Let's hear it."

"What?"

But she had her arms crossed and an expectant look in her eye.

He played a few measures, fingers decidedly not working at all. He stopped, his face red.

She snorted. "You nervous, or just shite at playing?"

He would have normally made apologies or stayed silent. Instead, he was honest. "Both, but I'm probably better at it than you."

She grinned and smashed her hands on the keys, fingers crawling like spiders up and down, making no sense or rhythm or music just _noise_. She stopped after a moment. "Hmm, guess you're right. Bet I had more fun, though."

He giggled, then covered his mouth with both hands, fear crossing over his face. He hoped the half-masked hid it.

She snorted again, grinning. "What, you not allowed to laugh?"

"No, I'm not. The Grand Duke says it's childish."

"You're a kid. You get to be kiddy."

He shook his head. "Not when you live on Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalon's estate."

Her grin fell down into a sneer. "Well maybe Grand Duke _Bahstaahd_ should remember what kids'er supposed to be like."

He giggled again. He'd tried not to, but it was funny to hear her insult the Grand Duke directly instead of through hints.

"An' besides, you're, what, twelve?" He nodded. " _Bahstaahd_ probably wouldn't know a kid if it spit in his eye. You should try it, then he'd look for a kid and you'd get off free 'cause you're not supposed to be one!"

"I don't have very good aim." He smiled at the thought of trying, though.

"I can teach you. You been here before?"

"Uh, yes?"

"D'you know where they are? Think you'd remember if we went the right way?"

"Remember...how to get to the servant's quarters?" She nodded. He was well acquainted with the servant's quarters, since he stayed there every time Gaspard dragged him to the Winter Palace. "Yeah, it's off the Hall of Heroes."

"Good, 'cause I need to get there and you're gonna help me." She stood up and walked towards a curtain on the wall.

"That's not the door," he called after her. She flung back the curtain and cursed at the blank wall.

"Fine, then _you_ get us out of here! Wait, can't go dressed like that." She pointed at his jacket and mask. "What've you got the mask on for, anyways? No one's here."

"I don't know..." He'd never thought about taking the mask off. He removed it, staring at it. It was plain, the white porcelain reminding him of an unpainted doll's face.

He removed his jacket, too. She plucked them both out of his hands, lifted up the lid of the piano as if it were a chamberpot, chucked them on top of the strings, and slammed the lid down with a satisfying thud.

"Won't need those. One more touch and you'll be invisible." She reached over and roughly messed up his hair. "There! Let's go! I've got a crew I need to keep up with. They'll be lost without me."

He led her towards the correct curtain. "Who _are_ you, anyway?"

"I had that stuck-up announcer call me 'Her Ladyship Mai Bhalsych. Of Korse.'" She bowed with ridiculous hand wiggles, and he giggled so hard he doubled over. She snickered with him. "You just call me Sera, though, yeah? You?"

He sighed. "I'm Benoît Henri de Chalon."

She snorted again. "I'm _not_ calling you all that. You'll be 'Ben.' Wait, you're not _Bahstaahd_ 's son, right?"

He shook his head furiously. "I'm more like his ward. He tells the nobles I've got 'de Chalon' because I'm an orphan and he took me in. He doesn't care about me."

She groaned. "Stuck up noble fucks, taking kids in 'to give 'em a better life' but really it's shite. Don't worry, Ben, we'll get _Bahstaahd_ back."

He led the woman out of the room, bare-faced and smiling. He liked being called 'Ben.'


	2. Second Movement

As soon as they stepped out of the room, Sera had him walk behind her.

"I'm the snooty stick-up-my-arse Lady Bhalsych, you're the servant following me. Know how to look like a servant? Head down, dead eyes, anger in your belly, planning to burn down the whole mansion. Y'know, servant stuff."

He'd grinned, then tried to give off the air of a servant as he followed closely behind Sera. Sera walked with an exaggerated swagger and literally put her nose in the air, humming displeasure at everything.

It made the other nobles avoid her like she was covered in hot nug poop.

It was _genius!_

"Left, _no, the OTHER left_ _!_ " He quietly gave her directions, trying to keep his head down and his eyes dead. He figured the 'dead eyes' was similar to how he zoned off when he had to listen to Gaspard drone on about his glorious plans for taking over Orlais.

They made it to the Hall of Heroes, and in through the door to the servant's quarters.

Ben closed the door quietly behind them. His heart pounded, like he had run an entire race, but much more exciting. "Okay, we're here! What nex-"

He turned and ran into Sera. She stood still, looking down at someone lying on the floor.

A _dead_ someone.

Even with all the blood, Ben still recognized who it was. "Wait...that's the cook!"

Sera shook her head. She looked sad and disgusted all at once. "Caught in the middle of this crap. What fully qualified arsehole stops to kill a cook?"

Ben felt cold sweat on his forehead. "What do we do now?"

" _You_ go hide somewhere close. _I_ go get my crew. Don't come out until I'm back, alright?" She must have seen the disappointed look on Ben's face. "You got a very important job to do."

He perked up. "I do?"

She nodded. "You need to keep an eye and an ear open while I'm gone. Listen for anyone gabbin' about this, and get a look at their faces if you can. _Safely_. You're the fly on the wall. Or behind the barrel. Wherever, just go hide and keep sharp."

He crawled underneath the large table in the corner, dragging an empty burlap sack with him, and tucked himself into the corner. He put the burlap over him, made he could see through it, and waited.

He'd been waiting for what felt like forever when the door opened again. He hoped it was Sera.

It wasn't.

Whoever it was walked very quietly. And had really weird pants on. They were in a blue and yellow diamond pattern. Ben could make out the hem of a skirt held up almost out of his sightline. A very fancy skirt.

A party guest, with weird pants on underneath their dress.

" _Shit_ ," Weird Pants said. "This cook was actually decent. They should have killed one of the other servants!"

Ben went cold. He knew that voice. He _hated_ that voice.

It was the voice of the woman who Gaspard said was 'practically the foundling's mother' whenever she was around. She would pinch and hit him when no other nobles were looking, saying he didn't stand up straight enough, wasn't grateful enough, whatever excuse she found.

Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Gaspard's sister.

Florianne sighed. "I'll miss those canapés."

He watched her feet turn towards the door.

Then her feet stopped, and turned towards the table. The table he was hiding under.

Florianne took a step closer. Then another. She put her hand on the table.

The door handle turned, and Florianne fled further into the servant's quarters, faster than anyone in a dress like that should be able to run.

"Coast's clear," he hear Sera say.

Ben crawled frantically out from underneath the table.

"What the-?!" "Who's-?"

He ran forward and hugged Sera, the burlap falling off of him.

"Eh, Ben? Benny? Not really the touchy type, Ben." She was stiff and very still, but he'd never been happier to see anyone in his life.

"The murderer came back!" Ben said, almost breathless. "The murderer came back and it was Grand Duchess Florianne and she had weird pants on underneath her dress and-"

"Slow down, son." Ben looked over at the bearded man Sera had brought. He didn't look or sound mean. "What was that about 'weird pants?'"

Ben let go of Sera, who sighed in relief, and turned to the man. "I'm Ben, or, really, I'm Benoît de Chalons, no actual relation to the Duke or Duchess, though. I'm Gaspard's ward. I know what the Duchess sounds like, and she was _just here_. I was hiding under there." He pointed to the table in the corner. "Sera said I could help if I hid."

"Can you tell us what you saw?" A slim elven woman gently asked.

Ben nodded. "I was under there, watching through the burlap, and I heard light footsteps and saw these weird, blue-and-yellow diamond pants, but I could also see the edges of a skirt. The person said 'Shit. This cook was actually decent. They should have killed one of the other servants!' And I recognized her voice right away. She's around Gaspard almost all the time. She's mean."

"She's in high standing with the Court," a tall woman with dark skin said. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about. She took a long look at Ben. "I think Gaspard's had you play piano at quite a few of the gatherings I've attended."

"He's shite at it, isn't he?" Sera said with a grin.

The tall lady glared at her, but Ben laughed, which eased some of the disapproval on her face. Most nobles would have stayed upset. He didn't remember the tall lady, but he thought he could like her.

"Ben." He turned to the elven woman. "My name's Halea. We're here with the Inquisition. Have you heard of us?" He nodded. "We've heard that there's people in danger here tonight, and we want to stop it."

"You're too late," he said, pointing to the cook's corpse.

Halea looked sad, and angry. "Yes, we were too late here, but we want to try to stop anyone else from getting hurt. Is there anything you can tell us that would help?"

"Florianne went that way," he said, pointing further into the servant's quarters. "She's probably going to use all the garden trellises and the windows to get back to the ballroom."

"Ben, you been sneaking around here before?" Sera grinned and ruffled his hair. "Here I thought you were boring until you met me. Looks like you got a bit of Red Jenny in you after all."

"Red Jenny?"

She winked at him. "I'll tell you about it later, but I think you'd like being her friend." Sera snapped her fingers. "In fact, I've got another job for you, if you think you can handle it."

"Sera," the man with the beard said disapprovingly. "You can't seriously send the boy out on dangerous missions with assassins running loose?"

"He'll be fine!" She insisted. "'Sides, it's Jenny stuff. Grey Warden like you'd never understand."

"He's a Grey Warden?" Ben looked back at the man with wide eyes.

“Yeah, an’ she’s the Inquisitor.” Sera pointed at the elven woman, Halea.

Ben’s eyes got even wider. “Really?!”

”Benny, focus!" Sera grabbed his shoulders. "Look, a couple other Friends of Red Jenny's made some stash drops all over the palace. Think you could get 'em and bring 'em to a certain birdie if I tell you what they look like?"

Ben nodded, and Sera smiled. She told him who to give the stashes to, a lady in the same outfit with short red hair, and what to look for, and a general idea of where. "Dunno _where_ in those spots, but somewhere in them. Start right here, and work your way around. And _don't get caught_. If you get caught, eat the evidence. Or chuck it into some bushes. Or set it on fire. Or-"

" _Sera_ ," the tall lady warned. Even though she was being stern, she still sounded nicer than Florianne or the other nobles he'd ever met.

" _Fine_. Good luck, Ben!" Sera ruffled his hair again, and set off with her crew.

Ben started looking around the servant's quarters.


	3. Final Movement

He found the first stash very quickly. It was under a big wheel of cheese, almost hidden if he hadn't been looking carefully. It was a red bag, and inside it was a piece of paper and a brooch.

He brought the stash to the woman Sera had told him about. She was talking with a group of nobles in the ballroom. She seemed at ease. He didn't trust that. Why would someone who had to do with Sera and whatever Red Jenny was also be good at court? The tall lady hadn't been part of Red Jenny though...

"Hello there. What can I do for you, young man?" The woman with the short red hair had a soft voice, and she was being very nice, but he could tell that underneath all of that she was dangerous.

"I have a message for you, madame. From the Lady of Korse." He handed her the piece of paper and the brooch.

The woman had raised an eyebrow just enough that Ben could tell she knew who it was from. She looked at the brooch, then glanced over the piece of paper.

He watched her read the paper, but she didn't seem to react to what was on it. He was disappointed. He'd hoped it had been something exciting.

Then she took his shoulder and led him to a window seat, excusing herself from the other nobles. "Just need to speak for a moment with Lady of Korse's messenger."

"Where did you get this?" She asked quietly, so that no one else could hear them.

"It was under some cheese in the kitchen. Sera told me to find the stashes and give them to you. She said it was Red Jenny stuff?"

The woman nodded. "This piece of paper had some very good information that the Inquisition could use. Do you think you can find the other stashes?"

Ben nodded eagerly, a wide smile on his face.

"Good. Bring each piece of paper you find to me." She talked even quieter. "If you find things _with_ those pieces of paper, you may keep them. I'll have to put on a little show because of this," she waved the brooch, "but you'll be able to keep it, if you'd like. Are you ready?"

He nodded again. She stood up and handed him the brooch in a very exaggerated way.

"Thank you, young man. Please go inform Lady of Korse that I've received her message, and it was good of her to return the lost brooch. I believe the owner is in the Hall of Heroes. Go deliver it. Run along." She turned and walked back towards the nobles without another glance at him. He ran off to look in the servant's quarters some more.

It had taken most of the evening, but Ben had found as many Red Jenny stashes that he could. Some of the stashes had valuables in them, and one of them even had a dagger! He was very excited that he got to keep it.

He delivered each piece of paper to the red-haired lady by quietly running up to her side, putting the paper in her hand, and then running off after she nodded at him.

And no one had recognized him! Without his fancy jacket and mask, and with his hair all mussed up, it was like he was invisible. He made sure to act very sad whenever someone _really_ important was around him. If they looked at him, they would quickly look away and walk faster.

He came out of the ballroom after handing off his latest piece of paper and ran head-first into Sera.

"Whoa, watch it!" She rubbed her side, where his shoulder had jabbed into her ribs. "Ben! Find all the stashes?"

"I think so!" He leaned forward and whispered. "I got 13 pieces of paper! And lots of other stuff! Like this dagger!" He pulled the dagger from his pocket and showed it to her.

She took a look and patted him on the shoulder. "Ben, that's a knife. But it's _your_ knife. Congrats! Come on, let's get back into the ballroom. The show's about to start."

She led Ben into the ballroom. Everything seemed normal, everyone was dancing or talking. He saw Gaspard and Florianne on the other side of the hall. He ducked behind Sera a little. He thought she would laugh at him, but instead she grabbed his hand and walked along the outside of the dance floor.

"Where are we going?!" He whispered to Sera.

"We gotta get closer so we can hear!" Sera said with a wink. She found an alcove with a dumb statue in it, covered in gold, and pulled him in behind the statue and her. The alcove was round, so all the sounds were louder in there.

He could hear Florianne and Gaspard like they were right next to him! He looked at Sera in wonder and she grinned, then put her finger to her lips.

They watched the Inquisitor talk to another person in red, a man with blonde hair. The blonde man looked surprised, then the Inquisitor walked across the hall.

Towards Gaspard and Florianne!

They were talking to another elven woman on the landing just above the dance floor, underneath where Empress Celene watched the party. The Inquisitor got closer and closer to them.

"We owe the court one more show, your Grace," the Inquisitor said loudly enough for people to turn and look at her.

Ben saw Florianne freeze, then turn around slowly. "Inquisitor."

"She doesn't like this," Ben whispered. He grinned from ear to ear.

"The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, your Grace." The Inquisitor said it more quietly, but Ben could still hear her. "Remember to smile." She walked right up to Florianne! "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

"Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?" She said back, following the rules of the stupid Game.

The Inquisitor talked loudly again, making sure everyone could hear her. "I seem to recall you saying, 'All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.'"

Ben gasped, then covered his mouth. "Strike?! Like _kill_?!"

Sera nodded. "She wanted to kill the Empress. Not that I'd stop her, but it's an Inquisition thing. We gotta be 'good guys.'"

The Inquisitor put her hands behind her back and started circling Florianne. "When your archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance. It's so easy to lose your good graces. You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary."

Ben's eye widened with surprise, and the rest of the ballroom gasped.

Gaspard took a step back from Florianne, shaking his head.

"It was an ambitious plan." The Inquisitor said, stopping in front of Florianne. "Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds...All your enemies under one roof."

He heard Florianne laugh. She never laughed because she thought something was funny. She only laughed when she was mad, but couldn't do anything about it. "This is very entertaining, but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?"

Gaspard took a step forward at that. Ben scowled. "I did not wish to. But it seems I have no choice." 

The crowd gasped again. Ben didn't like that Gaspard had his chest all puffed out, like he was a hero. He hoped the Inquisitor would say some things about _him_ , too.

"Gaspard? You cannot believe this! You know I would never..." But Gaspard had turned away from her, and now two guards were walking down the stairs towards Florianne! "Gaspard?"

The guards got closer, and Florianne looked like she wanted to run away. Ben knew that even in her dress, she was very fast, and he was worried that if she ran she would escape.

But the Inquisitor was there to stop her from running. "You lost this fight ages ago, your Grace. You're just the last to find out."

Florianne dropped to her knees and started crying. The Inquisitor started talking with the Empress as a guard grabbed Florianne's arm and pulled her away

Ben thought he'd be happier to watch her cry and get led away to the dungeon. Instead, it made him feel uncomfortable. Like _he_ had done something wrong, even though Florianne had tried to kill people.

Sera stood up and brushed her hands together, like she was getting dirt off of them. "Well, that's that! The Inquisitor'll take care of the rest! What's that look for?" She looked at him with her nose wrinkled on one side again.

Ben shrugged. "I dunno. It...wasn't as funny as I thought it would be...I thought she would get made fun of, but she's going to the dungeon instead. I _know_ it's what should happen, it just...feels weird..."

Sera put a hand on his shoulder. "That's Red Jenny stuff, Ben. We stick it to the nobles and anyone else who thinks they're better than all the people they step on. Sometimes that means stealing all the guards' trousers so you can sneak around easier. Sometimes that means putting them exactly where they belong. But the Friends of Red Jenny is all about getting justice for all us down at the bottom."

Ben nodded. "So it's okay that she's going to the dungeon?"

Sera looked at him carefully. "You'd rather she died? That the Inquisitor took a sword and chopped her head off right on the shiny marble floor?"

Ben felt the color drain from his face as he shook his head furiously.

"She murdered people, and she attacked people, and she planned to murder more people. She wasn't a good lady. Honestly, the dungeon's too good for her. But the dungeon is the ' _right_ ' punishment." Sera made a face when she said 'right' and it made Ben laugh. "You did good with those stashes, though. Leliana was impressed."

"The lady I gave the papers to?"

"Yeah. She told _me_ that if you got a lot more practice, she might even be able to train you as a _spy_ when you're older!"

Ben's eyes went wide. "Really?!"

Sera nodded. "Yep! But you need to start somewhere. How'd you like to join the Friends of Red Jenny?"

"Would I have to play piano?"

Sera snorted. "As if anyone wanted to hear _you_ play," she said with a wink.

"Where would I go?"

Sera pointed to the tall lady. "Fancy Britches over there told me about a noble's household that's nice to kids, and I know there's a bunch of Red Jennys there. You could start there, do some runs, and get used to being sneaky and a rebel. What d'you say?"

Ben thought about it. He'd had a lot of fun, and after hearing what Sera said, he thought maybe it _wasn't_ so bad that Florianne was going to the dungeon, even if it seemed really sad.

And he really didn't want to play piano any more.

"I'll do it!"

Sera grinned and slapped him on the back. "Atta boy! You'll be going to that noble's house after the party. I've made sure some of the Friends of Red Jenny people were here so you can just go with them. But not until _after_ the party. There's a whole tray of tiny little food that's got _our_ names on it, Ben, and it's just asking to be pilfered!"

Ben grinned and Sera ruffled his hair.

"Alright, let's go get some tiny food!"

Ben thought of something "Hey, Sera?"

"Yeah?"

"Who _is_ Red Jenny, anyway?"

"Dunno, and believe me, I've _asked_."

"Maybe...Maybe we're _all_ Red Jenny."

Sera turned and looked at him, then burst into laughter.

" _Ben_ , that's the cheesiest shite I've ever heard! You lightheaded or something? You definitely need some tiny food. To go with all of your _cheese_."

He grinned and followed Sera on his new mission, excited to be a new Friend of Red Jenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Ben is so young, I wanted the writing to be a little bit simpler (when I could) and for the story to be a little less complicated. It was another little thing that was quite a bit of fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! ~BreakerBroken


End file.
